


Will Come to Light

by SomewhereFlying



Series: Two Lies and a Truth [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Goro Attends Shujin, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 10:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16514753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereFlying/pseuds/SomewhereFlying
Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen this way. It never was - but Akira could deal with the snag in their plan to expose Kamoshida. What he couldn't fathom, on the other hand, was why Akechi was acting so suddenly cold, and why it bothered him so terribly much.ShuAke Confidant Week Day 7:Conclusions|Betrayal|Justice?





	Will Come to Light

* * *

“You’re sure the teachers are all out of the building, Akira?”

A soft clink. A tumbler fell into place.

“I’m sure, Ann.”

“I mean, aren’t there supposed to be, like… janitors or security guards here on the weekends?”

Metal scraped against metal – no, that wouldn’t do. Try again.

“There are. Just not right now.”

“And – and you’re _sure_ this thing is really jamming the security cameras?” Ann asked, holding up a small device about the size of her palm. It was currently whining with a faint, high-pitched sound. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust Futaba-chan, it’s just—“

A hearty _thunk_ , and with that, the principal’s door had been breached. Akira stood up.

“Ann,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure. Are _you_ sure you want to go through with this?”

Ann took a long, steadying breath. “Yeah. I’m sure – I have to. After we talked with those first years, and with… S-Shiho in the hospital now…”

“For real,” Ryuji chimed in. He adjusted his heavy-duty black gloves, which were just a little too big for his hands. “If we stopped now, we’d be no better’n all the other teachers at this craphole school…”

He and Ann shared a glance, and she came away with a determined smile.

“Okay then,” Akira said, pushing the door open with his own gloved hand. “Get going.”

As the principal’s office door clicked shut behind his friends, Akira turned to face the hallway with a sigh.

It had been _quite_ a week.

Kamoshida’s temper was truly something to behold. Ryuji and Ann had told him stories, but to hear about it and to witness it firsthand were two completely different experiences. Furious that the investigation into his office break-in was going nowhere, Kamoshida took out his frustration on anyone who bothered to look at him wrong – and on his volleyball teams. _Especially_ the volleyball teams. Akira winced just thinking about it, and he didn’t even play the damn sport. He’d seen Mishima’s bruises up close in homeroom on Tuesday, and – while he wasn’t an expert in the field – he sure thought they didn’t look like they were caused by volleyballs.

How hard could a volleyball bruise a kid’s shin, anyway?

Then there had been Shiho. Akira… hadn’t really known about her troubles before this week. It didn’t seem right to pry, and Ann never seemed interested in talking about it, so Akira assumed it was on a need-to-know basis, and he didn’t need to know. He _didn’t_ need to know, until Wednesday, when Shiho found her way to the roof of the school and took a leap into the courtyard below. She was lucky, probably, that the ground was so soft from the previous night’s rain; she may not have survived otherwise. Or maybe that meant she was truly _un_ lucky. Akira couldn’t say.

And then there was… well.

Akira clicked his tongue and glanced both ways down the hallway, but no one was coming.

It was silly, pathetically unimportant compared to everything else, but he was pretty sure Akechi was ignoring him. Not like he normally did - just not paying him any particular attention - and not like he had been recently – turning away when their eyes met and flustering so cutely – but really _ignoring_ Akira.

The moment that stood out to him the most had been earlier that same week. Akira had been milling around Central Street, just window shopping and scoping out the latest book releases, and when he turned around, Akechi was there, right on the other side of the street. Akira tried to acknowledge him, and even waved, but Akechi… Akechi’s eyes looked glazed over, like he was staring right through Akira – like he wasn’t even there at all.

He didn’t flinch. Their eyes didn’t meet. And then he just kept walking.

Well, there _were_ a lot of other students around, and Akechi was obviously concerned about his reputation amongst his peers - he’d made that very clear during their trip to Akihabara - so Akira didn’t think much of it. But it just _kept happening_. If they passed each other in the hall, Akechi didn’t even glance his way, and if Akira waved, he was more likely to catch some stranger’s attention than Akechi’s. On days the student council had meetings, Akechi left school with the other members, and on free days, he slipped out before Akira could even find him.

It was weird. Things had been going so well last week, hadn’t they? Maybe Akechi was getting cold feet about courting a delinquent?

Ha… “courting”. Akira blew out a long breath and leaned back against the wall. That was a strong word.

From within the principal’s office, Akira heard the sound of a photocopier, stunningly loud even through the heavy wooden door, and instinctively he glanced down the hall again. It was late on a Saturday, well past the end of the school day – honestly, they shouldn’t have been able to get inside, and were only able sneak in because Ryuji knew of a certain courtyard door that liked to stick to its frame, never fully locking – and he knew no one would be arriving to catch them. Still, this was decidedly illegal. _Really_ illegal. Like, “get sent straight to juvie no questions asked” illegal.

But he had to trust Ann and Ryuji. They knew the risks just as well as he did – and they knew not to dawdle. Only a few minutes later, they were creeping back out of Kobayakawa’s office, Ann delicately shutting the door as they did. None of them said a word as they bolted from the school, and even on the subway they were quiet; not until they were safely stowed away in Akira’s attic-room did they feel comfortable talking, or even breathing openly.

“Oh my _god,_ ” Ann groaned, flopping down face-first onto Akira’s futon. “That was the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever done in my LIFE.”

“I – I know, right?” Ryuji’s anxiety was taking the form of nervous laughter. “That was – woah. I’m still shakin’.”

“So what did you find?” Akira asked.

Ann opened up her folder, and out spilled dozens of papers: police reports, medical files… things that the school had to keep on record, no doubt, but things that would have been covered up by the administration, because had they gotten out, Shujin’s reputation would have tanked… and they couldn’t have that. Kamoshida wouldn’t allow it.

“The only thing we couldn’t find is what the hell Kamoshida’s gotta have on the principal,” Ryuji said. “For him to cover all this shit up, he must be blackmailing him with _something._ ”

“Maybe,” Akira said. He didn’t voice his thought that laziness and complacency were equally as likely as malice. “Well? What do you want to do with this?”

Ryuji and Ann both went quiet.

“I don’t know,” Ann said. She rolled over onto her back and sat up. “What can we do? It’s not like we can take it to the police – they already know,” she said, gesturing to the papers at the top of the pile, which were about Shiho’s attempted suicide. “And I don’t want to reveal our hand just yet…”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said. “I don’t wanna have done all this shit for nothing.” He sighed and ran his fingertips through his short, curly hair. “Ugh, eff this, man. Everything sucks.” He paused briefly to kick one of the cinderblocks that held up Akira’s futon, which made him wince in pain. “I almost wish I didn’t even know, y’know? Wish I could just forget about it…”

“Do you really?” Akira asked. There was a long pause.

“…nah,” Ryuji said quietly. “I’m glad I know. For Shiho, and for Mishima an’ all them… they’d want someone to believe in them. And even people like…” His eyes dropped down to his own body, his own leg. One of the case reports on file in Kobayakawa’s office had been about _that_ incident, too.

“Then lay low,” Akira advised. “You’re not giving up; you’re just being smart. You won’t help anyone by rushing in unprepared.”

“Yeah…” Ann said slowly, and then, with more conviction, “Yeah. You’re right! Why’re we acting so down – this was a success, wasn’t it?” She sprung to her feet and pulled Ryuji into a side-armed hug. “I never would’ve been able to do this without you guys… so thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji muttered, shouldering her away – but his grumpy tone of voice belied the smile on his face. “A’ight, we’ll… hold onto this shit, I guess, and try and figure out what to do next…”

“Mhm!” Ann nodded, gathering up the papers again and placing them neatly in her folder. “I’ll keep this safe… we’ve definitely got something here. We can help them.”

“And _don’t_ tell Akechi about this, all right?” Ryuji added, jabbing Akira in the chest with a finger.

Akira frowned. “I wasn’t going to,” he said.

 _I doubt he’d talk to me even if I tried,_ he added to himself.

 

* * *

 

Something went wrong.

Akira had never been lucky. So while it really shouldn’t have surprised him when something went wrong… it still hurt.

They had been so careful about keeping it to themselves. Had one of the volleyball players sold them out? It seemed unlikely – all Ryuji and Ann had done was ask them about their injuries – they shouldn’t have known what Ryuji and Ann were planning, nor that Ann had compiled all of their evidence against Kamoshida into a single folder, which was currently in the hands of Kamoshida himself.

“Despicable,” Kamoshida spat, snapping the folder shut. “Lies and slander. I should have you all expelled for this.”

Ann and Ryuji flanked Akira on either size, their heads hanging low – not out of shame, but to hide their furious expressions. They were in no position to be acting defiant right now.

They had been accosted on their way into Shujin that morning – all three of them, detained at the school gate and pulled over to the side, far enough away that no one could hear them, certainly, but not so far as to hide them from curious eyes. Akira could practically _feel_ the stares being sent their way.

And all of those things hurt, sure. But nothing, nothing felt worse than the fact that Kamoshida wasn’t alone; no, beside him were Makoto Niijima and Goro Akechi, their faces stoic and tranquil as they stood by and simply watched everything unfold before them.

Akira didn’t look at Kamoshida while he lectured them; his eyes were focused solely on Akechi, who never blinked and whose attention never once strayed Akira’s way.

Their downfall, Kamoshida revealed, had been a silent alarm, one that protected the entire school. It didn’t matter that the courtyard door wasn’t completely sealed; this alarm was motion triggered. It took a picture of them before the jammer could stop it, and although the quality wasn’t very good, the three of them were distinct enough to be recognizable anyway. Once he had dragged them into the courtyard, Kamoshida had yanked Ann’s backpack from her grip and dug around until he’d discovered her folder, which he opened and read, his expression growing darker with every turn of the page.

“Get rid of this,” Kamoshida snapped, abruptly shoving Ann’s folder into Akechi’s hands.

Akechi blinked, finally, and he adjusted his grip on the folder.

“Yes, sir,” he said. He sounded like a robot, cold and mechanical.

“What the _hell,_ man!” Ryuji barked, his head jerking up to glare at Akechi.

“ _Ryuji,_ ” Ann hissed. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, Sakamoto, that’s some good advice,” Kamoshida said. “Shut up while I’m still deciding whether I should expel you or just suspend you.”

Akira felt his heart stop, but before any of the rest of them could react, Makoto made a pained noise. Kamoshida looked at her, and she hesitated for a half-second before saying. “W-well, Sir… all we know is they broke into the school and tampered with the cameras… nothing was vandalized and so far nothing has turned up missing. You don’t really have the grounds to expel them, or even suspend them, except…” she trailed off and looked directly at Akira.

“Huh? Oh, right… you’re the kid here on probation, aren’t you?” Kamoshida looked like he’d just pulled a winning lotto ball. “Tch… breaking into the school even knowing what would happen if you were caught… you must be stupid.”

He paused and took a moment to look Akira over before announcing: “You’re suspended for a week. In fact, I think I’ll be contacting your guardian – you clearly need to be under a tighter leash.”

“What?” Ryuji shrieked.

“H-hey, you can’t – that’s too long, he’ll get behind!” Ann protested.

“Shut it, Sakamoto, _Takamaki_. I still need to decide what I’ll be doing with you.” Kamoshida crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “I think a month of mandatory clean-up duty for the two of you should suffice. You’ll get here one hour early and stay one hour after class is over. And Takamaki, you’ll be cleaning up after volleyball practice… I could use the help.”

He practically leered at her, and Akira felt bile rising in his throat. But no one said anything.

“Okay,” Kamoshida said, standing up straight. “You two get to class,” he said to Ann and Ryuji, “and _you_ can go on back home. I expect your guardian will want to have a talk with you when you get back…” With that, he left them behind, walking briskly back to the practice building, no doubt on his way to call Sojiro and let him know what had just transpired. Akira should have been disappointed or even terrified – he’d been on such thin ice with Sojiro that it wouldn’t be surprising if he just kicked Akira to the curb – but instead he just felt numb.

Akechi and Makoto were having a quiet conversation, during which Makoto kept shooting surreptitious glances towards the trio, but they were too far away to hear. Then she sighed and turned on her heel, striding away towards the main school building, and Akechi made to follow her without acknowledging the group at all.

“H-hey, Akechi-senpai,” Akira called out before he had a chance to get too far away. He wondered for a moment if Akechi would even listen, or if he’d pretend not to hear Akira, like he had so many times recently. But Akechi turned to look at him, and when he did, Akira saw that his eyes were lifeless and dull. “C’mon, this is wrong… can’t you cut us some slack?” Akira asked.

A heavy silence fell over them before Akechi tilted his chin up and looked down his nose at Akira.

“And why would I go out of my way to help a miserable delinquent who made the mistake of getting caught?” he asked, and Akira felt a chill run down his spine. There was _hatred_ in Akechi’s voice. “No; a week’s suspension for you, and you’re lucky it isn’t worse.” He shook his head and opened his briefcase, very deliberately placing Ann’s folder inside. “These are the consequences of your actions, Kurusu-kun. Accept them.”

Akechi gave one last disparaging glance at the group before he left to follow Makoto into Shujin, leaving the three of them to bask in their own stunned silence. They grouped a little closer together, as if proximity could help mitigate the blow they’d just been dealt.

“You okay, Akira?” Ann asked him quietly.

Akira adjusted his backpack strap and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m - fine. You guys should get to class… the bell’s gonna ring soon.”

“Dude,” Ryuji began to say, but Akira cut him off.

“Just go,” Akira said. “You’ll… take notes for me, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ann said, vigorously nodding her head. “I’ll take the best notes of my life. And you’ll wait for us at Leblanc, right? We’ll barge in to see you no matter what Boss says… we’ll sneak in through your window if we have to.”

Akira managed a weak grin. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

Ann and Ryuji reluctantly parted ways with him, and he made his way slowly back to Yongen-Jaya. He decided to walk – it wasn’t as though he was in a hurry to have Sojiro yell at him – and see if it would calm him down. A thick layer of slate-gray clouds hung low in the sky, and as he walked, a wet gust of wind blew by, promising that snow was soon to come. He hunched his shoulders and braced himself against the cold.

What happened back there? Was Akechi truly so furious at him just for breaking into the school, for stealing copies of documents with incriminating evidence against Kamoshida? Maybe so, but that still didn’t explain why he’d been so distant lately. Plus, the fury in his voice… it made Akira nauseous just remembering the way he’d spoken, his words like venomous barbs that dug into Akira’s heart.

He just wanted to know _why._

Leblanc was empty when Akira got back, despite the fact that mid-morning was usually a busy time – relatively speaking – for the café. He didn’t bother trying to slip past Sojiro’s notice, instead walking straight up to the bar and presenting himself to be verbally flayed.

Sojiro stared at him for a long moment. He was holding a cigarette in his hand; it was lit, but based on the way the end way heavily ashed, he hadn’t been smoking it. With a rough sigh, he stubbed it out in his ashtray and turned his back on Akira.

“I’ll give you five minutes to explain yourself, if you want,” he said.

So Akira sat down at the bar and did just that. No frills, no beating around the bush, and no making himself look good – he told Sojiro exactly what happened and why he’d done it. He didn’t care to try and save face, and yet to his surprise, by the time he was done with his story Sojiro was facing him again, his expression deceptively neutral.

“I hope you learned your lesson about trying to look out for people other than yourself,” Sojiro said, and then he flicked his dishrag in the direction of the attic. “Just… go upstairs. You might not be in school, but that doesn’t mean you get to blow off studying, all right?”

For a moment, Akira just stared at him, as if waiting for him to drop the other shoe, but he never did.

Maybe Akechi was right. Maybe Sojiro _was_ nice, and Akira had just never noticed before.

“And hey, kid?” he added. “I’m not gonna trap you here… you can go out if you stay in Yongen-Jaya. You got that?”

“…thanks, Boss,” Akira said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sojiro shook his head and turned away before Akira could see the small smile threatening to cross his face. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”'

 

* * *

 

True to their word, Ann and Ryuji stopped by Leblanc every afternoon – a little later than normal, considering their punishment, but they still showed up. Ann’s notes were a little better than Ryuji’s, if only because her handwriting was neater, but to be honest the star note-taker in the group had always been Akira. As a show of solidarity, the two of them spent their nights in Leblanc’s attic with Akira, going over the day’s lesson with him and filling him in on Shujin’s latest gossip – like that Kamoshida had calmed down now that he’d found a scapegoat in the three of them, or that Akechi and Makoto both had been mysteriously absent for the past two days…

But it was on the fourth day of his suspension that things really took a turn.

Akira was sitting in Leblanc, sipping on a cup of coffee while he took a break from helping Sojiro clean up the store, when suddenly Ryuji burst through the front door with Ann trailing close behind him. He looked wildly around the room until his eyes landed on Akira, at which point he exclaimed:

“Holy _shit,_ dude, Kamoshida got _arrested!”_

“Oi, watch your damn language, kid,” Sojiro snapped. The one other customer, an elderly gentleman enjoying a cup of black coffee, barely held back his snicker.

Ryuji’s eyes went huge and he stammered out a quick apology, but he couldn’t keep the broad smile off his face.

“What? You’re kidding,” Akira said. Ryuji shook his head, and soon he and Ann were crowding around Akira at the bar.

“No way. I mean, it didn’t happen at school or anything, but we heard teachers talkin’ about it.”

“It’s true,” Ann said. “According to Kawakami-sensei, the police showed up at his house this morning and took him in for questioning. So, I dunno if _arrested_ is the right word,” she said, shooting Ryuji a look, “but he wasn’t at school today, that’s for sure.”

“Wow,” Akira said. “Did you guys…?”

“No way! We… kinda thought maybe it was you?” Ryuji asked, but Akira shook his head.

“I’ve been a good boy this week; I haven’t left Leblanc except to go to the bathhouse. Ask Boss,” Akira said, and Sojiro barked with laughter.

“Anyway, I asked Niijima-senpai – oh, she was back today; Akechi, too – if that meant your suspension would be lifted, but she said no.” Ann made a face. “Our punishment is still going on, too… what a bummer.”

“Yeah, but… I dunno,” Ryuji said. He leaned back in his barstool and swiveled around. “If that’s our payment for Kamoshida gettin’ arrested, I think I can handle it for a little while…”

“Don’t get too excited just yet,” Akira warned them. “We don’t know if his arrest is going to stick yet.”

That sobered the room up a little, but it was impossible to completely kill Ryuji and Ann’s infectious good mood. Even Sojiro got swept up in it, serving them up a big batch of curry under the guise that it was a “failed batch”, refusing to accept payment for it. Akira knew, though, that Sojiro would never serve something he wasn’t proud of.

And at the end of the week, when Akira finally returned to Shujin, Kamoshida was still gone.

The school was buzzing with energy, and for once, the attention directed at Akira wasn’t wholly negative. He heard bits and pieces of chatter throughout the day, mostly speculation as to what happened to get Kamoshida pulled from the school. It seemed most people thought it was because of Shiho, but there were some – the people who’d seen Kamoshida telling off Akira and the others – who thought he had something to do with it, and kept trying to approach him during the day and pester him for details.

There was really only one person Akira wanted to talk to, though, and he was making himself impossible to find. By the time his last class of the day rolled around, Akira had already decided he wasn’t leaving the school until he’d found Akechi, trapped him in a corner, and forced him to explain himself… or at least until he’d made out with him a little bit. If Akechi would be into that.

The final bell rang and Akira high-tailed it to the third floor, where he combed the halls looking for the elusive vice president. He had it on good authority (the creepy girl who was always staking out the second-floor stairwell) that Akechi had not left the third floor this afternoon, yet the student council room was empty, he wasn’t in the faculty office, nor was he visiting the library… so where else could he have gone? Unless he’d decided to pull something like Shiho had…

Akira started to chastise himself for making such a morbid joke, even in his own head, until he realized the roof wouldn’t be a bad place to check. Not that it was like Akechi to go somewhere off-limits to students, but if he was trying to be left alone, it would be the perfect spot. Akira snuck into the stairwell and climbed to the roof, noting once he reached the landing that there was a small rubber doorstop propping the rooftop door open, which he took as a good sign. Someone had been up here recently…

His hunch had been spot-on: that someone was Akechi, currently sitting on an old desk with his back facing the door, just staring out over the skyline and swinging his legs casually over the edge of the desk. Akira glanced across the roof, but it seemed Akechi was completely alone up here.

Akira tried to be stealthy, but the roof door was so old and so heavy that when he let it go, it slammed shut behind him, jostling Akechi from his thoughts. He whipped his head around and leapt from the desk, a brief flash of fear in his eyes, quickly replaced with recognition - and then anger.

“ _Kurusu,_ ” he said, not quite as cruelly as the last time they’d spoken but with a voice still laced with quiet fury. “What the hell do you think you’re – wait, did you move my doorstop?”

Before Akira had a chance to respond to either question, Akechi was shoving his way past him back to the rooftop door.

“Hello to you, too,” Akira said.

Akechi stopped a few feet from the door and groaned, running a hand through his hair. _“Fuck,”_ he muttered under his breath.

“Woah. Language, senpai,” Akira said.

“Oh shut up,” Akechi snarled, turning around to glare daggers at Akira. “You wouldn’t know this, Kurusu, given your absence this past week, so allow me to fill you in. We locked the door to the roof after Suzui-chan’s suicide attempt, but your _friends_ decided they weren’t having any of that. They tried to pick the lock.”

Akira had to bit the inside of his cheek to keep his grin at bay. Of course; it was just like Ryuji and Ann to think they were ready for a challenge after two lock-picking lessons.

“Now,” Akechi continued, “it opens just fine from the inside, but from the outside…”

Akira grabbed the door handle and gave it a hefty tug, to no avail. “It’s locked, huh?”

“ _Yes._ Hence the doorstop.” Akechi sighed and pulled out his phone. “I’ll text Niijima-chan, but she has cram school this afternoon… it may be a while before anyone comes to get us.”

Akira looked up at the eventide sky. The sun was already well on its way to setting, and a light breeze had picked up, carrying the chilly December air around Akira’s arms and legs. It… was only going to get colder from now on.

Once he was finished attempting to hail Makoto, Akechi slipped his phone back into his pocket, and then he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, tilting his head up to the sky as the wind tousled his hair.

“Are you cold?” Akira asked. Akechi looked at him and immediately dropped his arms to his side. Akira could see him shivering. “Come here.” Akira gestured to his side. “We’ll stay warmer together.”

“I’m fine,” Akechi snapped.

Oh, so that was how he was going to be? No; there was no way Akira was spending all evening up here freezing his ass off on the roof without getting Akechi to talk to him. This was ending here and now.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?” Akira asked. “I thought we were getting along. I thought…” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “Shit, I thought you liked me.”

Akechi’s glare was as icy as the air around them. “You’re talking like you ever truly felt anything for me in the first place,” he said, sneering, “but you know as well as I do that you only kissed me so I wouldn’t find your friends breaking into Kamoshida’s office. Please, I’m not a fool.”

“That’s…!” A rough noise scraped itself from Akira’s throat. His heart was beating the same way it did when he knew he was about to get caught stealing. “Why the hell would you think that?”

For a moment it seemed as though Akechi wasn’t even going to dignify him with a response, but then Akira realized he was only pausing to retrieve his phone from his pocket again. He tapped the touchscreen a few times and then something began to play. Akira heard static, chatter, and then, clearly, his own voice:

_“—not like that. We’re just fucking around. …I mean it. I don’t like him or anything. It’s just for fun.”_

Ann was just starting to speak when Akechi cut the recording off.

“Niijima-chan caught you talking with Sakamoto and Takamaki,” Akechi said. His voice had lost its edge. “I know your true feelings, so don’t make a fool of yourself trying to convince me otherwise.”

“Shit,” Akira muttered under his breath, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Senpai, that’s not–“

“Are you really about to try and convince me I misheard you?” Akechi asked.

“…no,” Akira said.

At least now he knew why Akechi had been acting so distant. God, he was such an idiot to not have realized sooner. His legs felt heavy all of a sudden, like they were made of lead, and he took a few unsteady steps until he was at the side of the small concrete wall that housed the rooftop door. He turned to lean on it, sliding his back down the rough edge until he was sitting on the ground. At least this would help protect him from the wind a little…

He’d resigned himself to suffering through a few hours of Akechi stubbornly giving him the silent treatment, which is why it surprised him when just a few minutes later, Akechi sat down on the ground beside him. He had his back to the wall as well, and he was close… close, but not touching.

“Do you want to know something truly pathetic?” Akechi asked. Akira kept his mouth shut. He recognized that tone of voice… Akechi had used it on the train ride back from Akihabara. It was a voice that spoke to a dozen hidden layers just beneath Akechi’s skin, and Akira did want to hear, but he knew that anything that came out of his mouth right now would cause Akechi to stop.

“I envy you,” Akechi admitted.

It was just about the last thing Akira had expected to hear.

“What, uh… what’s there to envy?” Akira asked.

Akechi almost laughed. “Everything. Surely you’re aware of your reputation, the way people talk about you. But you don’t care at all, do you?” He looked at Akira curiously and hugged his legs to his chest. “I… I can’t stop wondering what other people think of me, and every small misstep weighs heavily on my mind,” Akechi said. “In truth, I… want to be like you, Kurusu-kun. Unburdened by society’s expectations.”

Akira drew a line in the grit covering the rooftop. “I care about what people think of me,” he said quietly. His voice was so soft it could have been carried away on the wind, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak any louder. “Just, not everyone. But my friends… yeah. I care. It’s… almost the only thing I care about.”

Without even looking, he could feel Akechi’s eyes on him. He took a deep breath.

This was probably the first step to repairing any kind of trust that had been between them, Akira thought.

“My parents never really wanted me, I’m pretty sure,” Akira said. He smirked. “Sorry. That’s kind of a weird thing to say, right? But I just… know. You know how you can kinda tell when someone’s only half-listening to you? That’s how my parents were with me. But I didn’t want it to be that way… I listened to their conversations instead, and figured out the kinds of things they liked to hear, and parroted it back to them… and you know what, senpai? They actually talked to me.”

He glanced at Akechi and gave him a wry grin. “Not that it mattered when I got pinned for assault, but… y’know. It was nice, for a while.”

The dusk was growing around them, and it was getting harder to see little details, but from what Akira could tell, Akechi was watching him intently, his chin resting on his knee.

“So that’s what I learned,” Akira said. “If I tell people what they want to hear, they’ll like me. I’ve done it my whole life… that’s why when Ryuji asked me why I was spending so much time hanging out with you of all people, I told him I was just fucking around. Because it’s what I thought he wanted to hear. I told Ann I didn’t care for you, because I was terrified of what she would think if I told the truth.”

The rooftop was quiet; the only thing they could hear now was the distant sound of the city.

“…and what is that truth?” Akechi asked him.

Akira’s heart was pounding in his ribcage, his throat was thick, and it was hard to swallow. He scratched at the rooftop and felt the dirt get lodged beneath his fingernails.

“That I like you,” he said. “That even though I started this because I needed to distract you, it stopped being about that a long time ago. That the only time I’ve said something without filtering it first was when I told you how much I wanted you.” He laughed without mirth. “So… if anything, I think I’m the pathetic one around here,” he said.

Akechi looked away. “How do I know you aren’t doing it now? Just telling me what I want to hear?” he asked.

“Is this really what you want to hear?” Akira asked.

“I don’t know,” Akechi said. He was trembling violently now.

“Come sit with me,” Akira said. “I’m cold… you are too, right? We don’t need to suffer.”

“…fine.”

Akechi got to his knees and crawled over until he was close enough for Akira to pull him into a sitting position, his legs bent over Akira’s lap, and as soon as their bodies made contact, Akechi shuddered, wrapping his arms tightly around Akira’s shoulders. Akira did the same, pulling Akechi close to his chest, and the relief that came was immediate and incredibly welcome; Akechi was a warm, comforting weight that dispelled Akira’s shivers.

“Better?” Akira asked.

“A little,” Akechi mumbled against Akira’s jacket.

They sat like that for a little while, neither bothering to continue the conversation. Akira brought a hand up to stroke Akechi’s hair, brushing some aside and letting it fall back against his cheek. Akechi didn’t stop him, and Akira even thought he felt him sigh, burying his head in the crook of Akira’s neck.

“Hey. Can I ask you a question, senpai?” Akira asked.

“I suppose,” Akechi said.

“Why’d you turn in Kamoshida?”

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akechi mumbled.

“No?” Akira shrugged. “Huh. I heard he got arrested, is all.”

“That much is true.”

“Yeah… and all the evidence we found was in Ann’s folder. The one Kamoshida gave to you…”

“It’s a coincidence.”

“And,” Akira pressed on, “You’re the only person I know at this school with police connections.”

“How many people at this school do you really know, Kurusu?”

Akira laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. He curled a piece of Akechi’s hair around his ear, which was painfully cold from the wind. Akira took the thin cartilage between his fingers and rubbed it gently in an attempt to warm him up. “I mean, I don’t really know how this stuff works, I guess. It’s just funny… we found all this evidence, and then a few days later…”

Akechi sighed and lifted his head from Akira’s shoulder. “It’s unlikely for an arrest to happen so quickly unless there are extraordinary circumstances,” he said. “Evidence alone is fine, but it can take a while to analyze. If, however, there was someone to corroborate that evidence… perhaps members of the student council, who would have a great deal of experience with both students and teachers, the police may have been able to build a strong case much more quickly.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And… I suppose if there was someone who had a good rapport with the local police, that wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Akira hugged Akechi a little tighter. “Thanks, senpai.”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akechi said, but Akira could hear it in his voice: he was smiling.

In the darkness, they could hardly see each other; touch was the only way to convey the feelings they were too afraid to voice, and so Akira nuzzled against Akechi’s cheek.

“I like you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against Akechi’s skin with every word. “I know I messed up, but I like you so much. Give me another chance?”

Below him, Akechi said something indistinct.

“Akechi?” Akira asked.

“I said, I like you, too,” Akechi clarified. He sat upright, bringing his hand from Akira’s back to his neck and toying with the fringe of his hair.

This, more than any they’d shared previously, felt like their true first kiss. They were each coiled tight with nerves and insecurity, and yet, wrapped in each other’s embrace like this, they found solace. There were no false pretenses between them any longer; they kissed for no reason other than because they wanted to – and Akira wanted so desperately.

“I’m sorry,” Akechi murmured when their lips finally parted. “For what I said to you. I was angry. I wanted to hurt you…”

“Apology accepted,” Akira said. “I deserved it, anyway.”

“No,” Akechi shook his head. “You really didn’t.”

They pressed even closer to each other, hands flitting under their clothing in search of warmth, and their lips met again, almost hot against their cool skin. Akira drank in the moment, numb to the world around him and to anything except Akechi, who had forgiven him, who was _kissing_ him, who was so engaged with him that together they almost missed the sound of the rooftop door creaking open and the voice that called out into the night.

“Hello? Akechi-kun?”

Akechi jerked his head away. “Ah, that’s Niijima-chan!” he exclaimed.

It was hard to tell, but Akira trusted that the silhouette that poked its head around the corner was indeed Makoto. He reluctantly allowed Akechi to leave his arms as the both of them scrambled to their feet. 

“God, how long have you two been out here? Hurry, get inside… you’ll freeze,” she said.

It was so much warmer back inside the school, and Akira immediately let out a sigh of relief. His cheeks were bright pink and he was glad he had such an easy excuse to explain that away.

“Thank you, Niijima-chan, for coming to our aid,” Akechi said. “I was careless. It won’t happen again.”

“I should hope not,” Makoto said, shaking her head. “We’ve got to do something about this door…”

“We’ll put it on the list,” Akechi said, and he and Makoto shared a laugh that Akira was sure would be funny to him if he was also a member of the student council. Then the three of them collectively made their way back to the front gate, and while Akira was hardly excited to go back out into the cold, his chest felt lighter now that it had in weeks. He was so relieved that he was starting to feel tired; it would be nice to head home. Before he could leave, however, Akechi grabbed him by the arm.

“Ah, Kurusu-kun, wait a moment,” he said. He shot a glance at Makoto. “It’s all right, Niijima-chan, you go ahead. I just need to ask him something.”

Makoto shot him a skeptical look, but she nodded and pushed her way out the front door.

“Um.” Akechi’s cheeks were still heavily pink, making him look adorably flustered as he tried to find the right words. “Kurusu, are you feeling well?” he asked.

“Huh? Uh, I feel fine, I think…” Akira said.

Akechi hummed and leaned forward, pressing his hand to Akira’s forehead. “Ah, you’re so warm… you must have caught something after sitting out on the cold roof for so long,” he said.

“I… don’t think that’s how it works.”

Akechi removed his hand and shook his head. “No, you’re definitely looking a bit ill. You… you should stay home tomorrow,” he said.

Oh.

“ _Oh._ Oh yeah?” Akira asked, a small grin coming to his face. “And what about you? You were stuck up there just as long as I was… You’re looking pretty pale, senpai.”

“Yes,” Akechi said, nodding. “Yes, I’m feeling rather feverish myself. I may stay home as well… to keep from spreading the infection.”

“Well then, you should text me tomorrow,” Akira said. “To, y’know. Check in with me. Make sure I haven’t died.”

“I’ll do that,” Akechi promised. “Get home safe, then, Kurusu-kun, and get plenty of rest tonight.”

Akira wondered if he’d be able to fake a cough convincingly. He’d never tried before.


End file.
